


Mundum In Ignem

by stellaedeinferno



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Gore, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellaedeinferno/pseuds/stellaedeinferno
Summary: The Bloodline has had powers for centuries - powers received through the blessing of the Old One, powers it has kept hidden and has used to maintain its power. When the new Cardinal is called in, he will slowly discover he has gotten more than he bargained for, and will be trapped in a web of conspiracy and intrigue that he must learn how to weave. Trapped between poles of power, will he learn how to play all sides in order to reach the top of the hierarchy himself? It’s a long way to the top, if you want to rock and roll...[Part of the Ghost BC Big Bang of 2019.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Ghost BC Big Bang of 2019.  
Thank you to the organizer and moderators of the event for giving us this space to create in.  
Thank you to [storm-ghoul](http://storm-ghoul.tumblr.com) for agreeing to beta my work and doing such a fantastic job.  
Thank you to [Lore](http://loreillustrated.tumblr.com) for partnering up with me for this event and doing [a stunning piece](https://loreillustrated.tumblr.com/post/187746505549/my-piece-for-the-ghost-big-bang) for it.  
Thank you both for all the support.  
Thank you to the Discord server for all the chaos and love.  
Without further ado,...  


The bells rang as Copia approached the building.

It had been a moment he had been expecting for a long time. His position as Cardinal had been long coming, carefully achieved over years of planning - but it was all that followed the promotion that was what he was truly interested in. 

Copia had been made Cardinal some time ago, a young Bishop with a lot of potential and all the recommendations for the post. Circumstances out of his control led to him carrying out his tasks in another region from the headquarters of their Unholy Church.

It was these headquarters that held the positions most coveted by the members of their Ministry, Siblings and Ghouls alike. Every one of them was vying for a chance to prove themselves in the service of their Church and of His Infernal Majesty. Or, at least, that’s what they claimed as they worked towards catching the attention of one of the members of the Bloodline in hopes of being promoted and brought in to be in the presence of the Papas.

Not that Copia had been doing anything of the sort.

He liked to believe his own schemes had been more subtle and intricate than just batting his eyelashes at the right people.

Or, at least, that  _ that  _ hadn’t been the only thing that had worked, out of everything he had tried.

Copia greeted the Cardinal that stepped forward to welcome him, remembering his name with the ease of someone used to seeing diplomacy as a tool. The appearance of a Ghoul meant to help him with his luggage only somewhat surprised him; he had interacted with Ghouls before, but the headquarters had more than most other places. Though they were known to him, he had yet to get used to them. He had a feeling life around here wouldn’t be very dull.

The other Cardinal led him into the building he had only visited once previously. It was as large as he remembered, its wings concealing the inner courtyard and gardens from sight. The Ministry in the city was far more austere, designed as more of a mausoleum of an office building, functional and minimalistic. The real gem, however, was their private building, more of a palace of old than anything.

Where the Ministry had chosen simplicity, the Bloodline had chosen different, opulent styles of architecture over the centuries they had worked on the place. It had all been carefully selected, with the original gothic style being underlined and complemented by the later, eighteenth and nineteenth century additions in terms of decoration and expansion.

The care put into the building extended into the gardens, carefully planted, trimmed, care for, and decorated. The fountains and statues that were spread across the territory were surrounded by rest areas, and half-hidden alleys led to more secluded spots perfect for having a  _ rendezvous. _

Stepping inside the palace was not unlike stepping back into a more elegant time. In front of the grand staircase that led to the upper floor rested a large, wall-length mirror that created the illusion of space, and of symmetry when it came to the two, smaller spiral staircases that led even higher up. 

The interior, of a dark, carved wood with motifs varying from symbols to entire tableaus, was decorated with various silks and velvets, every texture and design carefully selected and crafted.

In a word, opulence.

Copia supposed he couldn’t expect the Papal headquarters to have any pretense of being humble. 

Humility rarely lasted in power.

Copia broke from his musings as he fell into step with the other Cardinal. The pair rounded the corner and approached that which Copia knew to be the grand hall, where the more momentous of occasions were hosted. The honor was not lost on him, and he bowed his head towards the Papa as he sighted him. 

The seats of the tables carefully arranged around the room were all filled, their structure laid out as a display of power and of the hierarchy. The Cardinals were seated by the table of the Bloodline, and he noted that the one who had led him there had moved towards his own spot by the central table. 

His gaze focused on the Bloodline, taking in the changes since he saw them last. 

Or the lack of change, in the case of the Papa. Copia stood a little straighter under Nihil's stare, noting the disapproval in his frown. Nihil had never cared much for him, accepting him through merit alone. If Imperator's comments were anything to go by, Copia supposed the two of them were far too much alike for the Papa to ever treat him with anything but wariness. This suited Copia fine. No one could accuse Copia of not having deserved his post, given this apparent dislike. If there was anything he could go by, it was the trust that Nihil placed in him regardless of their differences, entrusting him with tasks of importance in terms of diplomacy and the like. The man was almost agreeable when the two of them had worked on some projects together, but he put it down to the work having been quiet.

He moved on to take in the appearance of Nihil’s sons. The three of them had matured in subtle ways, their posture no longer having the cockiness of youth, but rather the self-confidence of adults.

The First, now retired from both his tenure in the papacy and from his position of vocalist in the band project, sat to the left of Nihil. His demotion did little to damage his pride, elegant as it was. Copia had always admired that about him, whenever he had had the chance to interact with the First, be it in meetings or in chance encounters in the library as they researched their respective assignments. His quieter nature, in contrast to that of his younger brothers, gave him a more refined air, one that he had held even in his youth. Still, the look he returned upon noticing Copia’s attention was almost provocative, as if daring him to say anything. This, he then decided, was also something he appreciated about the First. He had pushed boundaries before, in both his projects and his rituals, and seemed willing to continue doing so.

The Second, now officially the Papa of their Unholy Church, sat to the right of Nihil. The appointment only furthered his own pride, but he carried it differently now, with some years added to his experience. Where before he would wear it as one might expect of a movie star, prone to dramatics and narcissism, he now wore it as a king might, self-assured and trusting his own judgement and place in the world. Before, the tilt of his head would be a little too far up, his chin angled high; now it was only his forehead that rose, enough to hint towards his higher status but not enough to be offending - only reminding. Copia had gone for drinks with him before, and though they were by no means friends, he recognized some approval, and, dare he say, amusement in the Second’s look. Copia nodded in return.

The Third sat to the Second’s right. The youngest of the lot, he still retained some of the playful air Copia remembered him for; Copia had seen him winking to a Sibling as he walked in, before turning his attention to the matter at hand. This, too, had changed. Though the Third had always been diligent in his duties and had gone above and beyond in the tasks delegated to him, he often carried a nonchalance about him that both set people at ease and made them question his sense of responsibility. Fortunately, his work spoke for itself, and no one could accuse the Third of goofing off without seeming unreasonable for it. If the Second had any worries when it came to keeping his post, it was only because the Third was giving him a run for his money. 

Regardless of it, or perhaps  _ because _ of it, he was seated to the Second’s own right. Copia knew the factions within their ranks could be divided in terms of which member of the Bloodline eligible for succession they supported, and such a placement was a show of unity and strength within the papal family.

To the right of the papal table sat the grand architect of this whole scheme. Sister Imperator would, of course, not claim a seat for herself next to the Papas, but to the right of them was acceptable enough while still displaying her position. A leading figure within the Ministry, orchestrating it all behind the scenes, she eyed him as one might a curious specimen in a laboratory. They had known one another for years, and Copia had proven himself reliable in her eyes. His transfer, he supposed, was a testament to that. 

Even so, he thought as he offered her a nod in greeting as well, it wouldn’t hurt to continue catching her attention. His arrival at the headquarters for a long term position was, naturally, an important step in his career, but it was also only a stepping stone in the power games within their ranks. Standing before the rest of the Cardinals, he thought the real games were only just beginning, his opponents now more cutthroat than any he had faced before.

Copia enjoyed a challenge.

It was Nihil that spoke first. “Ah, Cardinal,” he said, as if only now noticing him. “Good of you to join us.”

“Thank you, Papa,” replied Copia, once again bowing to him. “I am glad to be of service.”

“Have a seat, Cardinal,” said the Second, gesturing towards his right, where a seat had been saved amidst the other Cardinals. It seemed he had ascertained his standing with Imperator correctly.

“Thank you, Papa,” Copia repeated, heading towards the empty spot.

Nihil and the Second proceeded with the evening’s speech, the matters discussed in the lines of the next important mass that would be held in the grand cathedral and various addressed towards the body of the Cardinals and how they were to encourage more people to look into their faith.

During these speeches, it was not uncommon for the Cardinals to comment and gossip with one another, and he half-listened to the whispers around him even as he paid attention to the words of the Papas. Though not unfamiliar to the Cardinals seated next to himself, Copia knew he had been away for long enough to have become a wild card that they needed to observe before approaching, and so refrained from making the first move. 

Besides, the persistent gaze of the Third did wonders when it came to keeping him otherwise preoccupied. Copia was no stranger to the charm of the Bloodline, whether it manifested itself as persuasion or intimidation. 

Copia looked back at the Third in order to judge for himself which it was. 

Almost like a blanket, a honeyed haze fell over his thoughts when their eyes met. The speech seemed so far away and much less important; really, everything seemed much less important. Copia felt his muscles relaxing, as if forgetting the tension that came with the nerves for this night. 

As suddenly as it came over him, it was gone. The Third had turned away to speak to a Ghoul that had been standing behind him, leaving Copia at a loss. 

He was no stranger to this sort of effect the Bloodline had on others. 

Why, then, did he feel like something was terribly off?

He didn't have much of a chance to dwell on it. His neighbours at the table seemed to have gained some courage between their fourth and fifth glasses of wine. 

"So, Copia," began Cardinal Gilberto, whom Copia vaguely remembered from a few soirees they had attended together, "how come you finally returned from your station in Florence? I thought the office there was cosy enough."

"It was, naturally. But cosiness and youth rarely mix well. I was getting antsy," Copia said, smiling behind the rim of his own glass.

"Antsy!," repeated Cardinal Boesky to the other side of him, "When people get antsy they take a walk, not turn their whole life around."

"Not when they have something to work for," Copia countered. "You heard the Papas - we need more vigour in the way we handle our faith."

"And the people of Florence already have enough?," said Gilberto, giving him a look of disbelief. 

"Have a care, Boesky," said Gilberto, "you know we don't choose where we're appointed. The lad  _ is _ young, you know how they get about changing things."

Boesky only huffed at this, turning to the person to his other side. 

"Ignore him, he's a crotchety old bastard," chuckled Gilberto, taking another sip of his drink. "Are you looking forward to joining us here?"

"I am, though I'm not sure about some of the company," Copia said dryly, eyeing Boesky and causing Gilberto to snort. 

“If you’ve made it this far you can handle yourself against some old men,” said Gilberto.

“It’s usually that hubris that leads to the downfall of the young,” quipped Copia, causing Gilberto to laugh. “It seems the Emeritus brothers have grown out of it somewhat.”

“I suppose,” said Gilberto. “They’ve certainly grown in their gifts.”

“Gifts?,” Copia asked distractedly as he poured them both another helping of the wine.

Gilberto only smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

The palace itself was only a little distance away from the grand cathedral. Copia had been ordained there, and even if the place hadn’t held that much personal significance to him, he doubted he could forget the interior. 

If their main building was a reason for pride, the cathedral was indeed a reason for hubris. Its towers stood tall and proud, gargoyles guarding their railings and those who lingered below them. The arches sprawling beneath them in turn guarded the stained glass that graced the length of the cathedral’s walls, works of art that glowed in the moonlight and only added to the intricate chandeliers within.

All of these he recalled from memory, but it did no justice to the real deal. As he approached, Copia had a lingering feeling in the back of his mind, oddly reminiscent of his first walk down the pathway that led to the cathedral. He had been younger, then, younger and nervous and oh,  _ so  _ very eager.

Now, Copia walked sedately, enjoying the evening breeze on his way to pray. It was not only the proper thing to do, it was also expected of him as a Cardinal. Especially one who had built his reputation around his work ethic. His work was his faith.

The large, heavy oak doors were open to the public at all hours, discreetly guarded by Ghouls if one knew where to look for them. As it was, Copia nodded in passing to them, knowing better than to disrespect them. Though they were technically under the Ministry’s command, it would be unwise to anger them without knowing how to handle them. 

Copia stopped in the entryway for a moment, taking in the solemn atmosphere before him. The cathedral was silent now, the only sign of it not being a still painting being that of the flickering flames of black candles and of the light coming through the stained glass being blocked by passing clouds.

The Cardinal stepped towards one of the pews, taking a seat in quiet contemplation. After a moment he removed his biretta, setting it down next to him and running a hand through his hair. Copia leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before the pew creaked under the added weight of another person. 

The lack of footsteps announcing this arrival startled Copia nearly off the pew. 

“Good evening, Cardinal,” said the Second, the only hint that he had seen Copia jumping being the upturn of the corners of his mouth.

“Good evening, Papa,” said Copia, trying for nonchalance.

By the quiet laugh of the Second, he deemed it a failure.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I apologise.” The Second’s voice was soft but carried well thanks to the acoustics, and Copia looked around to see if anyone else would have heard.

There was no one else around.

“It’s alright,” said Copia. “I just didn’t hear you coming.”

The Second grinned. “I imagine not.” The suggestive look on his face threw Copia off. 

“You know what I meant,” Copia laughed, somewhat nervous and getting warmer. He could feel the tips of his ears reddening, and from the Second’s glance towards them he could tell it was standing out. 

“I’m only teasing. Relax.” The Second seemed content to look towards the altar before them for a while, enough for the flush in Copia’s face to dim and his heart to stop racing. “I’m curious… I haven’t seen you in some time. Why the return?”

Copia couldn’t detect any maliciousness in his tone. Merely curiosity. “The Ministry thought I would be better suited here. I’d been performing well in Florence, and they wanted me to use that energy here, where it’s better directed.”

“So you weren’t just getting antsy after all.” 

Something cold settled in Copia’s chest.

“Antsy? I guess you could say I was. I  _ have  _ been looking forward to changing things for the better. In whatever capacity I could, of course.”

“Of course,” the Second repeated, finally turning his gaze back onto Copia. His eyes gleamed almost like a cat’s. “You’ve always been good at following the directions of the Ministry. I wonder if you’ve thought about going above and beyond them.”

Copia didn’t look away. “I think everyone has, at some point. Thinking you can do this thing, or that thing better. But the Ministry is there for a reason. And  _ they  _ are not without reason, either. So far, whenever I’ve made a suggestion it was taken into consideration seriously and either accepted or rejected with good reason. We might be Cardinals, but we are not omniscient.” 

It was strange how fuzzy his mind felt. He hadn’t thought twice about his answer.

“You are not, nor should you be. But do not think yourself a Papa, either. Your duties extend only to that which your office presides over.” The Second’s brows furrowed slightly at this.

“Naturally. I would never overstep.” Copia still had enough sense in him to lower his head in acquiescence. 

The Second smiled faintly, and broke eye contact in favour of turning towards the windows.

The rush of air that entered Copia’s lungs seemed to snap him out of his state, like breaking the surface of the water. 

“The night is still young. Want to join me for a drink?”

Copia didn’t understand what was so funny about it, but he nodded nonetheless. It would be downright idiotic to refuse the Papa, he reasoned.

The Ghouls that had been waiting by the exit followed them as they left the cathedral, falling into step in their wake as the Second’s own little shadows. Though one could hardly expect the Papa to require bodyguards on the Unholy ground of their headquarters, it was also true that one could hardly expect him to walk around defenceless.

Unbidden, a half-remembered memory came to mind, likely hazy due to his drunkenness at the time. Copia could recall a fight they had gotten into in a club, though the specifics escaped him. What he did recall was how easily the Second had punched a man nearly twice his size, and then slammed him against a wall and held him there, threatening him in a tone so soft he could barely make out the words though he was standing next to him.

The Second’s fist bore no bruises from the punch, either.

Copia chanced a glance at the Papa walking beside him. Though his frame hadn’t changed much, the Second still seemed solid enough under his vestments.

Perhaps the Second wasn’t so defenceless afterall.

So, then, why the Ghouls?

Turning around, Copia was met with near-identical glares from the pair.

He decided he didn’t want to know, and walked on.

One of their old haunts looked just the same even after all that time, though the bartender had since been replaced. Copia ordered a drink and sat at one of the tables with the Second, discussing different matters and trading stories for what seemed like hours.

The Second never touched his drink.

Copia wondered if that had always been the case.

And if it was, how had he not noticed it?


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of Copia’s first week back had been disappointingly uneventful.

After their outing, the Second had seemed content or perhaps reassured enough that he hadn’t looked for him again outside of the meetings in the common spaces. The other Papas had also not reached out to him, too busy with other administrative matters to also worry about the new Cardinal or his still uncertain position within their carefully laid out structure.

Sister Imperator had made time for him, speaking with him at length about his temporary tasks and duties and the things expected of him now that he was serving directly under the Bloodline.

These things Copia understood well enough, but Imperator’s own choices of words and of emphasis were telling and therefore valuable enough that he hadn’t thought to rush her in any way. Not to mention that that would have meant rudeness towards the highest figure in the Ministry. Even a Cardinal couldn’t afford that. Or perhaps, especially a Cardinal.

Copia was given an office until his permanent position would be secured. His tasks included paperwork, which he dreaded, and the occasional meeting for one project or another, which most often involved some of the other Cardinals.

It soon turned out that interesting times were indeed not something to look forward to if you wanted some peace and quiet in your life. Copia sometimes lamented the thought for only a moment, before perishing it. He had better things to do than something resembling retirement.

The Papacy was being transferred to the Third.

The news came first as whispers behind closed doors, then as murmurs in the hallways, and finally as official announcements. 

It now made a lot more sense why the Second was so concerned about his position, Copia thought. 

The Second Emeritus had stepped down from his position just as gracefully as his predecessor had, both in public in the context of the band project and privately in the context of their own Church. The private affair had been a sombre, ceremonial one, ending in Papa Nihil’s blessing of his youngest son as the Third Emeritus of the Papal line.

Copia personally preferred the public setting. It had been more interesting to watch. 

Not that the ceremony itself had not been fascinating; he had been unable to attend those of both the First and the Second, and watching the Third be raised to the status of Papa had been a chance few would get and even fewer would dare miss.

The wording and the layout of the ritual had been one of old, of centuries of history keeping the exact formula and replicating it whenever necessary for a privileged lot that would step up to become part of their lore, even in name alone.

Copia supposed the vicious little feeling that had settled in his bones was envy.

He shook it off for the time being. He had better things to do.

Things like finding his footing in the tumultuous tempest of the shifting of factions. If he had been decidedly undecided upon his arrival, keeping all sides guessing in terms of his support towards the various members of the Bloodline, Copia now had to think on his feet if he hoped to gain and retain a decent standing in the changing political landscape.

Gilberto had proved to be an unexpected well of knowledge, and Copia found himself relying on his knowledge of the other Cardinals to an extent he was uncomfortable with. It made sense to him that he would require such a source that was intimate with all the players of the game if he were to make any headway in it himself. However, depending on the other Cardinal meant recognizing that while he had been making progress on his own in Florence, he had been simultaneously neglecting his Cardinal position and the maintaining of it by knowing who was in their ranks and who might have had him removed.

It was a mistake Copia would not make twice.

Over the course of weeks and still seated between Gilberto and Boesky - whom he had seen join separate factions in the maelstrom - Copia learned the other Cardinals one by one. Their habits, their views, their tendencies. Even the dirt of them he could manage to find on such short notice.

Copia was only a little behind. He still knew how the strings worked, and which way to tug on them in order to get them to play his tune.

His interest seemed to be most drawn to Cardinal Alazon. Inevitably, the man would find Copia at the customary parties and gatherings organised around the Clergy, and would insist on discussing different matters as one might do for an interview of some sort.

Foul play was to be suspected in times like these. If Copia could uncover its kind and bring it before one of the members of the Bloodline, his position within his chosen faction would not only be assured, it would also be commended. 

With this in mind, he answered all Alazon asked of him, and kept an eye on him in turn.

The Third had stepped into his new role with an elegance that both surprised and was to be expected. No one could have blamed the Second of not being careful of his duties and of carrying out the tasks that his station required of him, but though his faith and devotion were strong and he was a balanced Papa that the Church could rely on, he lacked the joie de vivre that the Third seemed to imbue all of his own activities with.

Copia observed him from a distance, for a while. In truth, the whole Church observed him, looking to see strengths and faults alike, and hoping to catch a glimpse of what sort of times awaited them during his tenure.

The gossip mongers seemed almost disappointed when the Third seemed to be just as charming and as capable as before.

Copia himself was not disappointed to see this. If anything, it gave him some hope for what the Third might achieve, given the power.

During one of the meetings that required the Papa’s presence, Copia was required to attend due to his knowledge of Florence and of the power plays at its local level. The Third had turned to him now and then, when his input had been required, and had given him the most curious looks, as if he couldn’t decide what to make of the Cardinal.

When asked for his personal opinion on some of the matters involved, Copia hadn’t shied away from speaking his mind.

The subtle, barely there glare in the Third’s gaze whenever Copia disagreed with him gave him pause.

“A moment, Copia,” the Third called out once the meeting had been adjourned for the day. “If you’d please.”

“Yes, Papa,” said Copia, moving back into the room and towards the chair he had occupied previously.

“No, no, nothing so formal. Come. Sit.” The Third moved towards the two sofas in the corner of the room, claiming one for himself and gesturing towards the other. 

The Cardinal took his seat, fidgeting absentmindedly as he looked at the Third.

Strangely enough, the nervous display stopped as soon as it started, his gaze now meeting the Papa’s.

“Cardinal, I understand that you are young, and ambitious. Not unlike myself,” the Third said lightly. “Nothing wrong with either of those. But I’d rather we were on the same page when it came down to matters of the Church.”

The raging fire that Copia had felt earlier, when making his claims and suggestions, now seemed like a mellow, slow burn. 

“I understand, Papa. I know the importance of public unity”, said Copia. 

The Third brightened considerably. “Good, good. I do appreciate your input, and will take it into account, but as my position is new, I can’t go around bending to every Cardinal’s whim. Or, at least, not be believed to be doing so.”

Copia nodded at this. “The factions are rather divided, at the moment. Even I, who is new here, have noticed it.”

“Indeed. It’s quite the problem. Still, I have faith that should things require my attention, they’ll reach me, sooner or later.”

The Cardinal’s head felt stuffy, as if wrapped in cotton. He could only nod once more.

The Third smiled and looked away as he took his own leave.

Once again, Copia felt like he was breaking the surface of the water.

He resolved to look into the matter of Alazon.

For the months that followed, as the dust settled and the factions disbanded or stabilized, he maintained his contact with Alazon. Copia had somewhat gained his trust, and that of the others whose company he kept. The Cardinals, few in number and rather small in power but skilled enough to fly under the radar if need be, somewhat accepted Copia, but his newcomer status meant he was still an outsider not privy to all of their information. He attended the clandestine meetings he could, and kept the evidence that would support his case when such evidence was available to him, but for the most part, Copia listened and waited for the opportune time.

Certainly enough, it hadn’t taken long for Alazon to grow impatient and careless, and let slip the date when he would confront the Third. 

Copia followed.


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of Copia’s footsteps echoed in the night, the halls now somewhat quiet as those who worked there finished their tasks for the day and moved to the dorms for activities of the more private kind. The tiles reflected the dim light of the chandeliers that were placed along the length of the corridor ceiling, aiding his sight despite being able to navigate it blindfolded, the knowledge of these halls now so ingrained into him. 

His steps were not alone, but instead were coupled to another pair in the distance. His own followed at a measured pace, unhurried in spite of knowing where they were both headed. A small part of him was curious to see what the Alazon would do, how he might face the Third and if he would tremble when that white eye would turn on him, laying all his secrets bare.

Together they passed corner after corner, archway after archway, doorway after doorway, one leading, the other following. He had not paid much attention to the Papa’s exact whereabouts in the wake of the Rituals, having assumed he would want privacy with the selected Sibling or Ghoul of the evening; all he knew was that they retreated to this wing of the building where only those at the top of their hierarchy resided. 

The simple, functional curtains of the common corridors soon morphed into more expensive fabrics and intricate patterns, their motifs not unlike those one would expect to see in the royal palaces of old. Still they marched on, Copia shadowing the other Cardinal with the ease of a cat in the now dimly-lit areas, sticking to the shadows himself so as to not be spotted whenever Alazon would look over his shoulder, as if searching for someone.

Copia paused as the footsteps of the other faltered before a great oak door. He watched as his shape drew shallow, rapid breaths, his anxiety apparent even from the careful distance he had maintained. Acting before his resolve could collapse, he wrenched the door open, the old wood protested at this rough treatment. From within, he could hear the smooth voice of the Third give a faint greeting, no surprise apparent in his tone. This made both Cardinals pause, but Alazon moved before Copia could process the ongoings, heading into the rooms. Though Alazon’s voice was raised, the sounds were muffled by the door which had closed in his wake as if it had a mind of its own.

Copia headed towards the door and stopped short of it, the previous noise having come to an abrupt stop, giving way to an oppressive, almost dangerous silence. Seconds ticked by, as marked by the blood he could hear pounding with each heartbeat. Still, no sound came from the room. Knowing he had the last chance to walk away, to pretend none of this had happened and he had known nothing of the other’s machinations, his gaze fell on the handle of the door just as his hand pressed upon it, his body acting of its own accord. His fate sealed, Copia stepped inside, words of concern already on his lips.

They would be left unsaid. The exhale passed through his lips unbidden, carrying no noises. His attention was fully on the grotesque and obscene visage before him. The other Cardinal rested in the Third’s arms, a puppet that had its strings cut, his limbs dangling loose and relaxed in the firm grasp, held up by his waist. The embrace seemed to mimic that of two lovers in the middle of a dance if not for an instinctual response that made Copia’s hairs stand on their ends. The Third’s head was tilted down towards the man, his hair falling around his face and obstructing the view so it looked as if he was simply kissing a lover’s neck, the image of an intimate scene.

The red of the Cardinal vestments did little to hide the ever growing crimson stain, slowly dripping down his back and onto the floor. The drops echoed in the quiet of the room, the soundtrack to accompany the tableau. The Third lifted his gaze towards Copia, and gained a piercing, predatory tint. Gone was the usual charming vision that seemed to turn him into a docile mess. Copia swallowed hard, his throat suddenly parched and closing up.

“Hello, Cardinal,” the Third purred, his lips curling into a slow, easy smile that did little to hide the fangs he now displayed. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”


	5. Chapter 5

The tension between them was almost palpable. After a few moments of waiting for an answer from the Cardinal and receiving none, the Third loosened his grip on the cooling corpse, letting it drop to the floor in an unceremonious pile of limbs. The Papa had little regard for it, stepping around it in order to approach Copia, who had remained frozen in the doorway. 

“Have I left you speechless?,” the Third asked, his voice now light and playful. “Has the cat gotten your tongue?”

“No,” Copia said, before realizing he had nothing to continue with. 

Papa’s stare remained fixed on him even as he circled around and closed the door. The uncomfortable feeling intensified, and Copia felt compelled to follow him with his gaze rather than leave his back turned. For this, he received an amused look. 

“I see,” the Third said, his hands moving behind his back as he stepped closer. “Then I guess you can tell me why you’ve waited this long to warn me?”

Copia was taken aback by the question, his mind racing as he tried to work all the angles. “I didn’t know exactly what he had in mind. Even as I was following him tonight-”

“False.” 

The smile still lingered on the Papa’s lips, but now his eyes were narrowed in contemplation. He shrugged a shoulder, nonchalant as he made his way further into the room. A settee accommodated the Third, a hand elegantly gesturing to the seat across from him by the light of the fireplace. Copia felt compelled to join him.

“I assure you, Papa, I wouldn’t want any harm to come to you,” the Cardinal said, wringing his hands in his lap.

The Third nodded, reaching over to open a bottle of wine from a nearby shelf and pour the other a glass; for himself he poured none. “I know,” he said, handing the glass to Copia, “that much is true. But it’s not the whole truth, now, alright?”

The wine, though undeniably rich, felt rather dry as it hit the Cardinal’s tongue. “I didn’t know. I only suspected.”   
  
The Third leaned against the plush backrest. “That you did. And yet, you didn’t say anything about it.”

“These are grave accusations, Papa. Especially against another Cardinal, one of the most important positions in the Church. I couldn’t bring it up without any evidence.” Copia frowned, his free hand gesticulating as he spoke. He took another sip of the wine, wetting his lips.

“It’s good that you understand the gravity of this, as you put it.” The Third let his eyes wander back to the corpse. His smile vanished. “He didn’t.”

The Papa hid his amusement, watching out of the corner of his eye as Copia followed his gaze and blanched at the reminder of Alazon's fate. "Drink, Cardinal," he said, his tone as jovial as before. "You never know when you'll get the chance again. Death can be quite… sudden."

Copia drank deeply, and gave off a startled laugh that seemed to surprise them both. "For us all?," he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"In some ways," the Third said, trailing off while giving him a curious look in turn. "Some more permanent than others."

"And which ones are you speaking about?," Copia asked. 

"Both," the Third replied, leaning forward and gesturing a scale with his arms. "For the more permanent, it may be slow or quick, but it finds all eventually." To this, he gestured a weight of the scale, his hand outstretched towards the still form. "For the less permanent, this end is subverted, held back and on the edge if only for a while." To this, he formed a counterweight with his other hand, causing the balance to settle as before. 

Copia held his gaze during his explanation, only shifting it to the counterweight afterwards, thoughtful. He took another sip of the wine and sat the glass down on the table, leaning back in his seat. "And how would this subversion be carried out?"

"Ah," the Third grinned, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. We don't want to reach the end too soon, do we? The pleasure's all in the journey. And we can't have you get yours while leaving me unsatisfied, now."

Though he remained wary, given the situation, Copia’s cheeks warmed a little at the wording and caused the corners of his lips to turn up. “Of course not. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I know.” The Papa winked and relaxed against the backrest once more. “I was counting on it.”

“So what is your… end?” The Cardinal finished his glass and set it on the table, nodding in thanks when the Third refilled it.

“Just like you uncovered this plot, I’m sure you could find more of this sort if you looked into it. My position in this Church is not as…  _ secure  _ as I would hope.” The Papa held Copia’s gaze once more, almost hypnotically. “My brothers’, as well. It helps to have eyes and ears where our own cannot be.”   
  
“I understand,” Copia said after a pause. “I think I can do that.”   
  
“Good!”, the Third said, flashing him another smile. “It’s settled then. I think this will be the start of a beautiful relationship for you and I, hm?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Copia raised his glass as if to toast.

“So have I.”

The look the Third gave him reminded Copia of the look a wolf would give a sheep. It set the hairs on the back of his neck on their ends, and made his breaths shorter. Idly, he wondered what he had gotten himself into.

“What do you know of drinking, Cardinal?” The Papa lifted the empty glass from the table before them, and idly trailed its rim with a finger.

“Depends on the type involved.” Copia let the sentence hang, somewhat wary of where this conversation was heading after having already reached an apparent agreement.

“It’s a great recreational activity. Sometimes overindulgence can lead to getting drunk. And there are many types to get drunk off off!” The Third tilted the glass towards Copia. “You, for instance, are a little sweeter than some.”

“I’ve been called many things, but not sweet.” Copia chanced a smirk at this, the meaning plain on his face.

“No, not that. And I don’t mean a sweet kind of drunk, either - though I’d love to see if you  _ are  _ one - since I doubt you could get drunk off one glass of  _ that _ .” The Papa raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the bottle of wine. “No, Cardinal, I meant  _ you _ are sweet. Some are a little tangier than others, some a little more rusty in taste. You are lighter. Though I can’t quite place the flavour without having an actual taste...”

“A taste?” The Cardinal could feel the joke on the tip of his tongue, but the cooling corpse by his side prevented it from slipping out.

“A nip. A drop. Whatever you may call it.” The Third shrugged nonchalantly, setting the glass back down. “I’ve already fed, so it’s not as if I’d need any more than that. And even if I did, I know how to stop myself. I’m not a child.” Copia could see the annoyance in the Papa’s eyes, the same kind he would get whenever his siblings would tease. It was only there for a moment, before the Third focused on him once more. “What do you know of the Bloodline, Cardinal?”

“That it’s been the same line that has presided over our Unholy Church for nigh a millennium. Blessed by the Old One Himself.” Copia recited these facts as well as any who underwent initiation in their Church, being among some of the first things new followers would learn when being taught about their hierarchy and the Papacy.

“Yes, there’s that word.  _ Blessed _ . What do you know of these… blessings?” He could sense no hostility in the Third’s voice, but the tone cautioned against foolishness.

“Not that much, I’m afraid. Only that they show His favour for you.” Copia sipped his drink once more, wetting his lips with the wine.

“Come now, Cardinal. You’ve been our senior-most member for a while now. Surely, you would know even a little more than that. Have Papa and Sister really not told you anything when they summoned you here?” The Third now seemed almost incredulous, the surprise apparent both in his voice and in his eyes.

“No, they have not.  _ Should  _ they have?,” Copia asked.

“I thought-” The Papa paused, considering the matter before shaking his head. “Never mind. The point, dear Cardinal, is that you don’t know  _ exactly _ what you’re dealing with, and if you’re to work for me, I need to bring you up to speed.” 

"By all means, Papa," Copia replied, interest evident in his eyes. 

"I will make it simple, then. The gift of the Bloodline is similar to what you might know as vampires."

The silence that descended upon the room was only broken by the sound of the clock on the mantelpiece. 

"That would explain a lot of things, if you're not just pulling my leg here," the Cardinal eventually replied, his gaze shifting from the Third's eyes down to his mouth, where he recalled having seen some unnaturally sharp teeth only minutes before -  _ fangs, _ his mind helpfully supplied. 

"And what a prank that would be. But no. I'm not." The Papa grinned widely, enjoying the widening of Copia's eyes as his canines were displayed. "None of the Hollywood bullshit, though. Crosses don't hurt, and neither does garlic. We have reflections, and the most the sun can do is a skin irritation and a strain on the eyes. The part about the blood, though, as our friend here can attest, is true."

"I see," Copia said. "And I assume your acts of hypnosis also have something to do with this…?"

The Papa smiled unabashedly. "Certo. But consent is important to us- we don't use it to coerce. Only to, ah,  _ encourage _ what is already there."

Copia laughed. 

The laugh started as a chuckle, a rumble in the Cardinal's belly that slowly crept over him, causing his shoulders to shake as he looked down at the floor. The Third stared impassably. 

"Of course. That's how he did it."

"He?," the Papa asked with the arch of an eyebrow.

"The Second. I met him back when I- well, it doesn't matter. He convinced me to look into our Church." Copia steepled his fingers together, the visage pious if not for the smirk on his face and the dark look in his eyes. "I suspected he somehow pushed me, but I see it was me all along."

"Of course it was. Though I look forward to hearing about this tale some other time. Over wine and not over… this?," he suggested, gesturing carelessly towards the still form by their feet. 

"Perhaps." Copia nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. "I think I'll need to sleep on this. What exactly do you expect of me, Papa?"

"Just information, Cardinal. For now."

Their meeting came to an unspoken end soon thereafter, the Cardinal finishing his drink before the Third gestured for the exit after a nod. The corpse was dismissed with a simple “the Ghouls will take care of it” as they stepped over it to reach the door, and wishes of a good night were shared between the two. If not for the Third gently grabbing his hand before he left - “You’ll do as you said, yes?” - and kissing it, still with that damned look, Copia could’ve sworn this had been a fever dream of some kind. The walk to his own quarters was uneventful, though he had looked over his own shoulder a couple of times, having felt followed. He found nothing out of place, and if he  _ was _ being followed the pursuer was careful not to be seen  _ or  _ heard. 

The following day went as if nothing had gone amiss. The breakfast chatter excluded the missing Cardinal, as did the discussions of the rest of the day. Copia knew they were avid gossip mongers, so the change hadn’t gone unnoticed for him; all he got in reply from the Third when he managed to catch his gaze during dinner had been a quick wink, that promised no further answers. Things had carried on in the same manner for the rest of the week, with the Third seemingly vanishing whenever Copia tried to approach him privately, Finally, he had braved the way back to the Third’s chambers, knocking on his door in the middle of the night with a half-hearted hope he would be available.

To his surprise, the door opened, and the Third leaned against the frame, looking for all the world like the cat that got the cream. “Finally. Took you long enough.  _ Again _ .” The Papa looked him up and down and opened the door wider, gesturing for him to step inside. “I’m beginning to wonder if this will be a thing with you.”    
  
“Sorry, Papa,” Copia said, heading into the room and towards the settees from before. “You wanted to speak to me?” As the Cardinal sat down, he discreetly looked at the spot where the body had been before; not even a stain remained.

“I did! I found a position for you." The Third settled down across from him once more. "When they brought you here as a Cardinal, they didn't have a clear spot for you in mind, so I, as Papa, am free to place you wherever I think you're most efficient."

“Of course, Papa.” Copia’s shoulders did not detense at this, somewhat wary of the position the Third might have had in mind. “Wherever you think it’s best.”

“In your case, Cardinal, I think it might be best to place you with my father.”

The Third watched in quiet amusement as the information registered for Copia, and he appreciated that he hid his surprise well enough to the naked eye. This sort of skill would come in handy when dealing with Sister Imperator, even if there was no lying to Nihil. He knew, from many a childhood attempt, that his father could sense lies through pulse alone.

The Papa proceeded to shuffle some paperwork on the table before him, inverting them to face Copia, the fountain pen having already been placed neatly next to the pile. “I’m sure you understand the circumstances we have found ourselves in. I am the third Papa already, my brothers having been removed from their positions. It’s quite the situation.” He steepled his fingers and gently placed his chin on them, looking Copia in the eye. “I need you to look into my father’s affairs.

“Obviously, he’s not going to trust you with most things, so you’ll have to work for it. Keep an eye on him, on his plans, on his meetings. You won’t be able to deceive him much, what with his powers. But! Sister Imperator can’t really tell as well as him. Her, you might just be able to wheedle. She’s by no means simple - she didn’t get this far through her looks alone. But you’re good at what you do. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Copia nodded once, and leaned forward to look over the papers, his mind racing. He knew he could not refuse or argue against the position, not unless he wanted to join Alazon. The terms seemed fair enough, given the circumstances. Though Nihil seemed to dislike him, he had a fair chance with Imperator. Copia also had previous experiences to draw upon when it came to keeping an eye on someone. This stint with Alazon was not the first one he had gone through. 

Before he arrived at the headquarters of their Unholy Church, Copia had had his own parish. Though the position of Cardinal had been fully merited, the recognition required for attaining it was another story. He had played his own power games for it, no stranger to deceit, betrayal, and scheming. Though, he sensed, this was another playing field entirely, if not a whole new game. A far more deadly one. 

Copia had always been good at new games. 

"Of course, Papa," he said in a placating tone, signing the documents before him. All of them were administrative in nature - he knew their deal was entirely off the record. "I will do my best."

"See that you do, Cardinal. I rather like you. It would be a pity to cut our friendship short."

The words were entirely at odds with the friendly smile the Papa displayed. 

The Cardinal returned the smile.


	6. Chapter 6

It had only been a matter of hours before the announcement of his new position, along with the new office by Papa Nihil’s own. Copia could tell Nihil was displeased, his disdain for the Cardinal obvious even without the huff that accompanied the grimace he bore at the news. For his own part, he played his part in seeming like a dose of young blood, a dose of vitality that their Church could use. That  _ Nihil _ could use. 

At least, Imperator seemed to think so. Copia caught the look she gave him, as she had before;  _ measuring _ . Her smile of acceptance was, of course, a formality he expected, but he also knew that the extent to which she had displayed it had been unnecessary. Her claps, in the midst of the others of congratulations, had not gone unnoticed.

The first morning in the new office had gone like a premonition of months to come.

By the time he had arrived, new key in hand ready to unlock the door, Imperator and Nihil were already up and chatting in Nihil’s office next door. Even if he hadn’t been promoted specifically to pry, it would have been difficult to ignore the flirty banter between the two, loud enough to be heard from the corridor.

A passing Sister of Sin offered him a cup of coffee, the tray in her hands holding three such cups.

“Thank you, baby,” Copia laughed, a grin gracing his features as she batted her eyelashes at him rather unsubtly. He figured she was new - most learned not to be so obvious after a while, if they were to get anywhere with their attempts. “Are those for Papa and Sister?,” he asked casually, sipping his own and making an appreciative sound, not missing the way her eyes followed the movement of his mouth and of his tongue as he licked his lips.

“Yes, they are.” She hadn’t lost her composure entirely; he reasoned there was hope for her yet. Her attention returned to the tray in her hands, the Sister smiled and made as if to politely excuse herself.

“I could take those, if you’d like. I have to go in and talk to them anyway, and you know Papa will start telling stories and you won’t hear the end of it,” Copia said, his tone amused. Privately, he admitted it was a little risky, gossiping like that, but from her relieved look he had judged her well. Placing himself as closer to the Siblings and Ghouls won him allies that would prove invaluable on this new playing field, if he was careful not to seem deliberate about it.

“Thank you, Cardinal,” the Sister said, still batting her eyelashes far too often for his liking. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He didn’t miss the way her gaze flickered to his lips this time, either.

“Not right now, but I’ll let you know if anything comes up. Thank you, Sister.” The Cardinal gently took the tray from her, one of his hands taking one of her own as he leaned down to kiss it. He nodded once in parting, changing his direction towards the office next to his own and pretending he didn’t hear her muffled giggles as she departed in the opposite way.

Copia knocked on the door, and opened it enough to poke his head in when they called for him to enter.

Looking at them, he could see why they seemed to have been a package deal all these years. Imperator was seated opposite to Nihil at his desk, comfortable and looking for all the world like she belonged there, the corners of her mouth curled into a self-assured and - dare he say - somewhat flattered smile. 

Though Nihil's own good mood seemed to evaporate as soon as he laid eyes on Copia, his gaze remained rather soft, as it would inevitably return to the Sister. Copia observed this as he approached and placed the coffee on the desk between them, greeting them and asking about their days almost absentmindedly.

Now that he knew the truth of he Bloodline, he couldn’t help but wonder how he hadn’t noticed anything amiss before this. Nihil’s eyes seemed to hold twice the power of the gaze of his sons, their subtle glow eerie even when briefly regarding him. The Cardinal watched carefully as Nihil seemed to smell his coffee rather than taste it, the bringing of the cup to his lips a mere theatrical act for Copia’s sake. 

Had he not been looking for it, he would have missed it.

Just as he had likely missed countless other cues.

They kept up a steady stream of conversation, talking about the paperwork, tasks, and meetings of the day. The Papa seemed to almost test him with the questions, sometimes making leaps or lapses as if he had simply forgotten about some matter. But, if the steady, expectant look trained on him told him anything, it was that he was waiting for Copia to fail to remind him of said matter.

Nihil seemed both disappointed in and begrudgingly accepting of his quick responses.

Copia would have also missed the careful smile of Imperator, had he not been fairly wary of her. Keeping the Third’s warning in mind, he paid attention to her own role in the discussion. She was a high ranking member of the Ministry, and was often in charge of their larger projects. Her position was by far one of the most secure in their Church, even without her involvement with Nihil.

Looking at them, Copia figured that if anyone were to leave this affair of theirs, it would likely be her.

The Cardinal could respect that. It was the way of anyone who ever ended up in such positions.

He had been aware of rumors of their relationship since he first joined their Unholy Church, as it was an inevitable question on the lips of those new to their Faith upon witnessing the two attending all functions together. Footage captured in their youth showed the two were like magnets to each other, though their apparent break up still remained a topic of debate many decades later. 

Even now, the dynamic lingered, only somewhat dampened by their years. It was in the arch of Imperator’s eyebrows and the quirk of her smile as she looked at Nihil, at times, though it was colder than one might expect. It was in the dark look her gave her in turn, as if a remnant of his old self would slip through the cracks of his aged appearance and reveal the vigour dormant right under his skin.

Yes, she would be the first to leave, and if the tidbits they knew were to be believed she  _ was _ the first to leave, but Nihil remained at the top of the hierarchy, so she settled in a strange sort of way.

Copia could respect that as well.

Just as he could respect the steel in her sweet gaze as she asked the Cardinal to accompany her to her own office nearby once their coffees were finished.

He followed without complaint, nodding to Nihil on the way out and refraining from reacting to the dismissive wave of his hand. Imperator paid him no mind, only turning back towards him when they were once again seated, this time in her own space. The door was securely closed behind them.

“I see nothing gets past you, Cardinal,” she remarked nonplussed, setting the paperwork on her desk in a neat pile to sort through later.

“I should hope so. It’s vital to performing my job well." He inclined his head slightly, careful not to tip his birretta over. 

"One wonders what that job might be, then." 

They took the measure of one another in silence, both tense and both cordial. 

"To serve His Infernal Majesty, our Unholy Church, and all that we stand for. Of course." Copia's voice remained steady, using every ounce of conviction that naturally came with his faith. 

"Of course," Imperator returned, her hands coming to rest one atop the other on the surface of the desk. "But there are many ways to go about all of those objectives. What is yours, Cardinal?"

"Currently, to fulfill the duties the Third has set out for me in this new position.” Copia knew that the best lies were those that were simple rephrasings of the truth.

He suspected Imperator knew it, too.

“Duties I’m sure you’ll be most…  _ careful  _ towards.” The Sister regarded him for another moment, as if deciding what to do about him. “Just as I have been most careful when it came to the safety of Papa.”   
  
“Just the same.” A fleeting thought occurred to him, that some day he might live to be in the same position as her if he played his cards right.

If she seemed willing to teach him her own game.

He had a vague suspicion she would.

“We’ll see about it, Cardinal.”

That suspicion was proven true when over the course of the next week his left eye gradually lightened into a bright white, his internal panic and pride both growing at the change.

No one mentioned it, as if they had been forbidden to, but he could feel the stares and hear the faintest of whispers following him.

The pleased smile of Imperator was only somewhat offset by the quiet surprise and suspicion of the Papas.

The Third gifted Copia a bottle of sweet, red wine, and complimented him on the new look.

Copia could admit to himself that he was impressed by how the Third could merge a threat and acceptance in the same gesture.


	7. Chapter 7

For the rest of the day, and of the months that followed, Copia became a shadow of sorts to Nihil. The Cardinal would attend the Papa’s meetings and would follow him around the Clergy from one appointment to the next. Though quiet, he was far more useful than a shadow; he would oversee the paperwork he could handle in Nihil’s stead and ensure that which he could not would instead reach the Papa’s desk. 

After a week, Copia would expect Nihil to turn to him with one task or another for him to remind the Papa of, or to fulfill himself.

After a month, he began anticipating them and carrying them out without even a prompt.

From the disgruntled surprise of Nihil and the pleased amusement of Imperator, he figured they had lacked someone competent to this degree before Copia had been appointed.

The Sister who brought them coffee would try to chat more and more with him, his very own morning entertainment. Through their banter, he guided her out of her excessive ways and into the art of subtlety - gently, because he couldn't afford to botch his own facade. 

It was around the same time that she was finally promoted that the pace picked up with his own ongoings. 

The Cardinal had ensured his own indispensability through his work, and this way, had ensured he had become a permanent fixture of the upper echelons of power. Though the Third was now considered the pinnacle, his brothers continued to hold high positions within their ranks. 

Their demotions had not gone unaccounted for. Copia knew, from both the gossip around the Clergy and from his own ventures into the Church's extensive dossiers, that the First and Second were given a free run of their time, more so than they had before taking up the position of Head of Church. Their tasks still kept them busy as the representatives of both their brother and father, and of their Church, but from what Copia could gather this was an improvement over their workloads as Papas. 

During the occasional meal when the Papas would have to make an appearance for the sake of the audience of their little play, the two would join Nihil and the Third at the head of the table. Since the reveal of their powers to him, the Cardinal had taken to subtly keeping track of them when in their presence. 

Copia followed the Second with his gaze, watching him as he headed for a Sibling that had taken his fancy for the evening. The Cardinal was particularly focused on whether or not the Second would use his more hypnotic powers, and was only vaguely surprised to see he hadn't.

When the Third had noticed, in turn, what he was doing, he was subjected to a bemused, indulgent look for the rest of the evening.

The First was another story entirely. 

The eldest Emeritus approached him after the end of dinner, a polite smile on his lips. "Walk with me, Cardinal," he had said, and moved on without pause, trusting Copia to follow. 

The Cardinal excused himself and moved into step with the First, his arms casually clasped behind his back as he bid a good night in farewell to those they moved past. Their walk took them outside, in the private gardens and out of view. The former Papa took a seat on a stone bench and gestured for Copia to sit next to him. 

Minutes passed in silence, disturbed only by the sound of the water in the fountain before them and the various night creatures roaming the trees surrounding them. 

“You are aware,” the First eventually said, “that if we have any reason at all to suspect your treason in the matter of secrecy, or in any other matter, your position will be terminated.”

_ ‘As will you _ ’ seemed to be the continuation, unspoken as it was.

“I am,” Copia said.

The Emeritus turned his head minutely to observe the man beside him. His heartbeat had not changed, and his muscles remained relaxed. He seemed serene enough, enjoying the evening breeze and the scent of the garden’s flowers in spite of the subject discussed. Not unlike a lamb for slaughter.

But Copia was no lamb.

The First nodded and leaned against the backrest.

  
“That you are.”


	8. Chapter 8

It had been whispers behind closed door before that alerted him of Alanzo's plot, and it was the same now. 

Copia couldn't shake off the feeling of deja vu. 

His getting into the good graces of the Siblings and Ghouls had paid off. Copia valued his connections to the other Cardinals, though he had moved closer to the Papal table in the seating arrangements, now to Imperator's right. The Cardinals, however, were only present to an extent, and some carefully placed comments with Gilberto and Boesky alike yielded little information. 

With how much the two disagreed on a daily basis, if they  _ had  _ known something they would have delighted in lording it over the other's head. 

No, for this, Copia had to rely on the underlings that went by almost unnoticed, privy to information that no one thought to hide from them if for no other reason than their perceived inability to actually use it for anything. 

In other words, they were underestimated. 

Copia could recall being underestimated as well. 

He would not be making the mistake that had brought about the downfall of many who stood in his way. 

The Ghouls that were overhearing rumours, big or small, would report their findings to him to sort through and deem either idle gossip or something worth keeping an eye on.

As it was, this particular rumour was a cause for concern if it proved true. 

Nihil seemed pleased with the results of his youngest son, and the Ministry had no cause for official complaint, but the set of Imperator’s mouth was a little too stiff for Copia’s liking whenever the successes were discussed, as though they were too little, too late.

Therefore, when the Ghouls alerted him of the Third’s potential replacement in the near future, he did not simply dismiss the idea.

The First’s warning was still ringing in his ears.

It was with this in mind that Copia seeked out the Third.

The way to the office was bustling with activity, members of the Ministry, Siblings and Ghouls alike all heading in different directions to either carry out their last tasks of the day or begin their after-hours entertainment. Copia nodded towards and greeted those he recognised, but did not stop for pleasantries.

The last rays of sunlight filled the corridor with warm hues that enriched the patterns carved into the walls, the finer details coming to life in a way that artificial lighting could never hope to replicate. Copia idly wondered how well the Bloodline fared when the sun was still out; he had seen them up and about during the day before, and the Third had mentioned it was more of an annoyance, but he couldn’t help but wonder the extent to which that stood true. The Papas tended to begin their office hours in the afternoon, a tradition that had been upheld for millenia - and one that he now understood the reason for.

He knocked on the door of the Third’s office, hoping to have a word with the Papa before the other business of the day could eat up his time.

Copia was not disappointed, as his voice called out permission for entry.

The noise of the corridor once again ceased once the door closed behind him. Copia bowed to the Third, a gesture that was dismissed with a flick of the Papa’s wrist.

“Hello, Cardinal,” said the Third, still shuffling the pile of papers before him that he would have to work his way through.

“Papa,” Copia greeted in turn. “I might have news.”

The shuffling ceased, and the Third leaned against the backrest of his chair. “Go on.”

“I’ve been paying attention to rumours, as you might know. But this one, in particular, might be worrying.” Copia took the seat in the armchair before the Third’s desk once he was beckoned to do so. “It seems Sister Imperator might be looking into demoting you. Permanently.”

Silence reigned in the office, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“I see,” the Third said, his voice even and belying no surprise. “Do you have any idea of when? Or with whom?”

“In a few months time.” Copia swallowed dryly, looking straight into the Third’s eyes. “With me.”   
  
Even the clock faded into the background.

“I see,” repeated the Third, still holding Copia’s gaze. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I’ve been… suspecting it. For quite some time. It seems you  _ can  _ be trusted.” The Papa smiled. “I knew my instincts were correct when I spared you.”   
  
The words did little to calm Copia down, which only seemed to amuse the Third further. “Thank you, Papa,” Copia managed, cursing the collar of his vestments. “What do you intend to do about this?”

“I will let Imperator proceed with her plans,” the Third said casually, as if they were discussing the weather. 

Copia was suddenly glad he hadn’t been drinking any water, the way he had wanted to only a moment before. He suspected he would have choked on it.

“She means the demotion to be  _ permanent _ , Papa,” Copia emphasised, his brows furrowing. “Is that really the wisest course of action?”

The indulgent look returned to the Third’s face, to Copia’s slight annoyance. “What she means to do and what she can actually achieve are two very different things. Forewarned is forearmed. We have you to prevent it, Cardinal. You’ve been doing a good job of it so far, after all.”

“I could refuse the position if it is offered,” Copia volunteered, though the words were like ashes on his tongue.

“It would just go to the next person. No, that won’t do. You will accept it,” the Third said, frowning back at him.

“Then how do you expect me to prevent it?,” asked Copia, taking his biretta off and running his fingers through his hair with a huff.

“By meddling with the Ghouls and officials who will handle our disposal. Of course.”   
  
“Of course,” Copia snapped, his options seeming slim. “Without  _ both  _ Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator, our two topmost figures, finding out.”

“I wouldn’t insult their intelligence by presuming they wouldn’t know about it,” the Third shrugged. “I just doubt they’d turn it into a problem. I’m betting on it, even.”

“Then what do you want the Ghouls to do?,” Copia asked, crossing his arms.

“Knowing them, they’ll try injecting us with something to take us down before they would take us  _ out _ . It’s happened before, when we had trouble coming into our powers. I would have you talk the Ghouls into replacing this substance with a harmless one my eldest brother would provide.” The Third tilted his head. “He’s quite good at it.”

“And then?,” prompted Copia. “What happens after that? They won’t just let you go missing.”

“Certainly not. We’d play our parts, pretend we’re done for… and would feed.” The Third sat back in his chair. “We could go into hibernation. Enough to allow them to use us for this debacle.”

“Use you?,” asked Copia.

“Damn it, I forgot you’re not up to speed. Forgive me,” sighed the Third. “They plan on using us as exhibits during the next tour.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Copia was thankful for the lack of water.

“Don’t give me that look,” the Third continued, now somewhat amused in tone. “It will be all be out of the daylight, behind reinforced glass, and we’ll be transported in dark boxes. We’ll survive it.”

“I think the more questionable part is the one about exhibits,” said Copia.

The Third shrugged again. “Maybe. But it’ll drag revenue out of the vip passes, and we’ll live, so that’s the least of our worries.”

“You mentioned feeding,” Copia prompted, latching onto the piece of information.

“I did,” the Third said. “Our Powers should let us enter a form of hibernation, We’ll have to feed enough to last us until the time to wake up rolls around. So, a lot.”

“I doubt we could hide that many people going missing, never mind where we would get them in the first place.” Copia fidgeted with his gloves, his mind going into overtime. 

“The Ghouls have their ways,” the Third smiled, with far too many teeth on display for Copia’s liking. 

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” said Copia.

“And I’ll leave the staff to you,” nodded the Third. “As well as getting Nihil’s blood.”

“Getting what now.”

“Nihil’s blood, Cardinal. Are you sure you’re feeling well? You look a little pale,” teased the Third. “We’ll need it once we wake up, if we’re to be at our full power.”

“You may need it, Papa, but it will be a tall order to actually fucking get it,” said Copia. “Impossible, short of stabbing him to death. If he’d even die.”

“An excellent idea. I look forward to seeing how it goes,” the Third smiled.

“You’re kidding,” blanched Copia.

“I’ll leave the technicalities to your capable hands. Have a good evening, Cardinal.”   
  
If the Third heard the hissed “fuck it all” that escaped through Copia’s teeth, which the Cardinal was certain he had, he had the courtesy to not react to it. “...You as well, Papa.”

Copia made to exit.   
  
“And congratulations on the promotion,” called out the Third, his attention returning to the papers before him without expecting a reply.

When Copia left the office, he was startled to realise the sun had entirely vanished beneath the horizon.

It seemed strangely foreboding.


	9. Chapter 9

Copia had scarcely finished the preparations by the time Imperator had called him in for a private meeting with her and Nihil.

Looking back on the past few months of planning, he was frankly amazed it had worked out. It has been just as difficult as he had expected, though the Ghouls were cooperative to an extent he had not anticipated. The shifts of the staff for that evening had required arranging, with suggestions from all three Emeritus brothers finding their way to him. 

Even after all this time, Copia still found it off-putting when they would describe people's tastes.

Especially now that he knew the meaning behind these comments.

Between the arranging of the staff and the putting in place of his own Ghouls for the operation, the dominoes had been set into place and were waiting for the right time to be set into motion.

And the time seemed to draw closer. The Third had been demoted from his Papacy and his leadership of the band project. 

Copia had been putting the finishing touches on the documents that would ensure the approval of the Papas for the exhibits when Imperator swept into his office. It took all the years of practice he had in order to discreetly put away the papers underneath a stack of every day, administrative ones. 

"Cardinal," said Imperator, a smile gracing her lips. 

"Sister," Copia greeted. He stood up from his seat and gestured to the one opposite his. 

“Hard at work, I see,” she said, looking at the papers.

Copia nodded, an easy grin now on his face to mask his discomfort. “Of course, of course. These won’t sign themselves, unfortunately.”   
  
“If they did, we’d be out of a job,” Imperator said with a wry turn of the smile. “That’s actually what I came to talk to you about.”   
  
“Did they finally invent a machine for this, then?,” Copia laughed.

“Oh, hush,” she said, indulgently. “Papa and I want to talk to you. He’s busy right now. We could talk later at dinner, but it’s rather private - we’d prefer to discuss it here, instead.”

“I see,” he nodded. “I’ll be sure to come see you, then.”   
  
“Very well.” Imperator stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Though Copia had stood along with her out of politeness, it took him a second and an impatient tap of her foot to remember to open the door for her. 

He saw her out of the office, and all but collapsed against the door once she was out of sight.

Copia didn’t look forward to talking to the Third about this.

He found himself once again knocking on the Papa’s office door, nonetheless. 

* * *

The tension in the room was palpable. Though the three former Papas were masters of deception, their gifts honed over decades, an unspoken agreement had been formed that they would not perform for the sake of those who had plotted against them.

They each knew this act of betrayal had been wholly expected, but the fact did not take the sting of it away. Each of the brothers had their own memories with their father that they could regard with some measure of warmth, so their father’s complicity in this venture couldn’t help but hurt to some degree, but they found solace in the fact that none of those memories could compare to the ties they had with their siblings. 

No words were necessary as they settled down in the room they had been summoned to. At first, they chatted amongst themselves, taking advantage of the time granted to them in a way that they had not done in a long time. It was not long into their waiting that the Second pulled a deck of cards out of his pockets, a game that the First had taught them in their youth to keep them occupied, and they deliberately messed up in the same manner as they used to as giggling children.

When Nihil and Imperator had entered the room, the atmosphere, that had until then kept a light overtone, grew heavier and fell much like the cards in their hands.

The Ghouls had already been dealt with, and it was an easy matter for the brothers to pretend to be affected by the harmless substance administered to them, as had been arranged.

The sting of betrayal as their father left the room and abandoned them to their fates felt far more uncomfortable than being dragged out of the room across the floor by the Siblings that had been sent to them.

They were a disposable bunch, and far more numerous than such a job would entail.

Copia had done well to keep them in the dark about their purpose there.

The Cardinal himself made his way to their location just as the Papas were standing up from their prone positions, the Siblings wary and trying to step back but kept in place by the Ghouls who had been in on the scheme.

The struggle had not been prolonged. Though the Siblings had been chosen due to their disloyalty, or due to grievances that had transpired in the past against the Emeritus siblings, the three knew better than to cause needless suffering on the part of their victims, aware of the traditions set in place for the usage of their gifts.

The Second had grabbed the arm of the nearest Sibling, one who had helped drag him out of the room, and twisted it, pushing him against the wall. Though the Brother of Sin struggled, he was no match for the Second’s strength, and the hold was transferred to an arm firmly planted against his chest and lifting him some inches off the ground.

The blood poured into the Second’s mouth not long thereafter, the kicks of the Brother turned into flutters, the blood poured, and poured, and soon the flutters were no more.

Next to him, the Sibling that similarly struggled in the embrace of the Third eventually went limp in his grasp.

“Hello, Cardinal,” the First greeted, his teeth momentarily distracting Copia with a flash of red, “nice of you to join us.”

“Papa,” Copia greeted in return. He sidestepped the legs of the Sibling the Second had dropped, and approached the brothers. “Everything has been secured. Including your supposed autopsy.”

“See, brother?,” the Second said, a light lilt to his voice as he looked at the First over his shoulder. “I told you our Cardinal would come through.”

“Forgive me for placing doubt on drunken misadventures in bars,” the First said dryly, “but we both know how those usually turn out.”

“Do not bring up examples,” the Third said, stepping back from the last of the Siblings that had been brought to them. “I don’t think any of us deserve that kind of punishment.”

“You’re just jealous, little one,” the Second said.

“It’s only three months,” the Third replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Cardinal,” the First cut in before the exchange could escalate, “are the corridors secured?”

Copia shifted his attention from the two younger Emeritus brothers to instead look at the eldest, pausing to process the question before rushing to answer. “They are, yes. A few, select Ghouls have been put in place.”

“Then I think it is time for us to get some rest,” the First said, stepping between his siblings on the way to the exit and thereby breaking the little staring contest they had begun. 

The walk itself had been quiet, lacking the banter Copia had grown accustomed to hearing between the Papas. Even upon reaching the mortician’s chamber, where their vestments and paints had been set out for them to arrange themselves into, barely a word was traded amongst themselves.

Though Copia had seen the materials that had been posted by their Clergy, particularly those featuring the Second to his eternal amusement, the Cardinal couldn’t help but be fascinated as he watched the process of their transformation, from the postures they adopted in their vestments to the careful application of their personal designs through the paints, ingrained into them after its routine use over the course of years.

The secured caskets the Papas were to be displayed in were set up and awaited them, morbid and entirely in-tune with their project. The Cardinal had them checked before, ensuring they would be secured against damage and light during transport, their display case only visible during their indoors setting. The Papas would be safe during their slumber.

Copia stayed out of the way as the three took a moment to themselves, their words too soft for him to hear. He averted his eyes as they embraced, turning instead to murmur instructions to the Ghoul by his side in order to ensure the clean removal of the Siblings from before. Copia knew it was likely already taken care of, but he hadn’t made it this far without double checking his steps.

The moment passed, and the First stepped away from his brothers and towards the case that had been prepared for him. One of the Ghouls approached him and helped him get inside, settling down with grace unnatural in the pose the mortician had been instructed to leave them in. His eyes slipped closed.

Copia watched as the First’s breaths slowed, grew deeper, and, eventually, stopped altogether.

The Second was the next to step forward. Though his expression remained serious, as he caught Copia’s gaze on him before being helped inside the case he sent the Cardinal a wink, a flash of amusement that was almost too quick to be seen. Copia approached this time, the Ghoul moving out of his way to allow him to close the case for the Second. 

His eyes were already closed by then, and his breathing stopped shortly thereafter.

The Third waved the Ghoul away as he made his way to his own case, his hand instead gesturing for Copia to help him up. The Cardinal tripped over himself as he rushed forward, and his ears warmed in embarrassment as he caught the barely disguised smirk of the Papa. Copia helped the Third inside, and arranged his vestments around him, ready for display.

The Third held his gaze for a moment.

“We will need our Father’s blood when we are to wake. Going so long without feeding… It will take its toll on us. His is old. Strong enough for it.”   
  
An expectant pause. A stare that almost seemed to read his mind.

“I will get it,” Copia heard himself say, as if from underwater.

The Papa smiled.

“Thank you, Cardinal.”

The Third’s eyes closed, and his breaths stopped.

Copia gently closed the case.

“Secure these,” he said to the Ghoul waiting a few paces behind. “Make sure they’re light proof.”

The Ghoul nodded and, along with two others, set about their tasks. The rest flanked Copia as he exited the room, a guard of his own as he went to plan for his own tenure within the project that had seen the rise and fall of three of the Bloodline.

Copia could only hope his own would not end in his demise.


	10. Chapter 10

Copia’s workload only seemed to increase following his promotion.

He remained a Cardinal, but, as they had all predicted, his position was now the subject of heated debate within the Ministry. The seats the heirs had filled for so many years next to Nihil had been removed, and the Papa remained alone as the head of their Church.

Still, even Nihil would one day pass.

For that reason, Copia had taken the seat previously occupied by Imperator, the first at the table to Nihil’s right.

He was the right hand of Nihil now.

Imperator seemed strangely pleased, accepting the seat to Copia’s own right with a smile on her lips.

The Cardinal supposed she thought herself in control through him to some extent. The Third would have a laugh over that, Copia idly thought as he sipped his wine.

The other Cardinals didn’t know what to make of the situation. Those whose favour he had previously gained, regardless of any feelings they might have had towards his youth and experience, were supporting him in hopes of receiving support in turn if he turned out to be the next Papa.

Copia’s position remained somewhat unsure, with other Cardinals still in line if he couldn’t prove himself worthy of accession. 

The changing dynamics affected his working day as well. While before he would be unbothered as he went through his tasks aside from those he had to interact with in order to fulfill those duties, he now often found himself greeted, visited, and invited to events by various Siblings, Ghouls, and Ministry members alike, some far less subtle than others.

Through it all Copia kept an eye on their views, already aware of those he should be careful of both through his own knowledge and that of the Emeritus brothers. Some he felt safe in being seen with, while with others he kept their interactions to a minimum.

It wouldn’t do for the Papas to return, only to kill him for fraternizing with those who wanted to see them gone.

Becoming the frontman of the band project also meant a rather interesting change in his schedule, having to record an album and practice the show before heading on tour. The spotlight suited him, Copia thought, feeding off the reaction and energy of the small rehearsal crowd in order to bolster his own on-stage behaviour.

The Cardinal could understand how being on tour had gone straight to the Second’s head.

And though he could manage it well, with over-the-top speeches and gestures, he nearly dropped his drink when he realised how it could turn against him if the crowd got  _ too _ rowdy.

Copia hoped it would never be the case.

The mornings were still gruelling when it came to waking up. It seemed his rise in status did him no service in terms of being allowed to sleep in; on the contrary, Copia had to painstakingly set his alarm an hour earlier than usual in order to be on time for morning practice.

It was only a week into rehearsals when the first accident occurred. 

The clock had been purchased on a whim some years before, the kind that allowed one to slap the top of it to turn off the alarm. It had done a good job of withstanding the daily treatment it received, Copia often being far too tired to bother with gentleness while sleep still lingered in his eyes.

It was therefore with well practiced movements that he reached over at the first sound of the alarm, instinctively pressing down on the top of the clock to secure himself five more minutes of sleep.

As per usual, silence greeted him. Only this time, it followed the strangest crash of plastic and wood.

The disturbance was enough for Copia to reach over to the lamp next to his bed and turn the light on enough for him to see what had caused the noise.

The sight of an utterly flattened clock and a smashed-in top half of the nightstand had not even been on the list of things he had expected to see.

Copia supposed one could hardly blame him for slapping the nightstand again, breaking the rest of it apart with an ease that made the piece seem made out of foam rather than the sturdy wood he knew it to be.

The objects were replaced, and Copia made sure to buy a regular sort of alarm this time. Though it caused him to grumble in the mornings more than he used to, he now had to watch himself.

The calculating look Nihil had given him later that week when Copia had caught a heavy metal shelf as it was about to fall as if it weighed no more than a book led the Cardinal to underplay his newfound strength in the following time, as tempting as it might have been to show off.

The second accident was far easier to do damage control for, thankfully.

Copia had always preferred to use his charm when dealing with people, finding it more efficient to make someone compliant through the proverbial carrot, rather than the stick. It had worked out for him throughout his life and career, and had even been one of the reasons he had been so easily selected for this tenure as frontman.

The new colouration of his eye seemed to add to it, an oddity that piqued the interest and, more importantly, the attention of those he talked to, his gaze having an easier time of holding that of his conversation partners’.

Only, now he found them almost entranced by it if he focused long enough on them, to an extent that had been absent before.

The Cardinal was not one to refuse such a gift, and used it well, almost flaunting it. It wouldn’t always work, and once or twice after it had failed he had had to tug on his collar to help bring down the heat he felt flaming in his cheeks and ears; but it was a risk he was willing to take.

It had been the third accident that had set him on edge more so than anything.

Copia’s appetite had been waning for a while by then, his portions at dinner decreasing in size enough for Imperator to remark on it, a knowing look in her eyes even as she politely accepted his excuses of slimming down for the tour.

In truth, Copia could feel the food losing its flavour on his tongue day by day.

He and the Third had discussed many plans and possibilities, but this had not been one of them, and Copia was woefully unprepared for what such a change might mean.

The Ghouls that had been assigned to the band project had taken to following him around lately, his own little guard of sorts. Copia had known them from both the Third’s own tenure, and from the night the Papas had gone into their sleep. Rehearsals took up enough of their days, and so they had grown familiar with each other in the short span of time they had before setting off on tour. 

Copia had been thankful for them when his latest gift had manifested itself.

The scent he had noticed while heading down a corridor had been bittersweet and oddly unfamiliar, and he frowned in confusion before giving in to the instinct of following it. The Cardinal only hazily recalled the moments after this, a blur of movement and sound, of quickly spoken exchanges that took place, of the eagerness of the Sibling as they kissed him, of how they had felt in his arms, warm, and  _ loud  _ with life, their beating heart a roar in his ears, the bittersweet taste now filling his mouth and coursing through his own veins-

The Ghouls had come across them and intervened, ripping Copia away from the Sibling as they dropped to the floor in a motionless heap.

As they had done before for the Papas, both the Sibling and any trace of the incident had been removed with a surprising efficiency.

Copia somewhat wished they could have also taken away the new sharpness to his canines, if only to keep himself from biting his tongue and cheeks as often as he now did.

Over the following months his plate had been more and more untouched, his presence at dinner more for show and their power plays than out of necessity. Copia found himself toying with his wine glass as he could recall the Papas often did, bringing it to his lips to smell the wine rather than sample its taste.

Copia pointedly ignored the smugness of Imperator over this development.

* * *

The suitcases had been packed and sent along to the bus, awaiting their departure. The rehearsals had been finished, the promotional footage had been shot, the plans had been finalised. They were due to set out on tour.

The Cardinal followed the same corridors as he had when he had first arrived an apparent eternity before, the same man and yet, new.

Where before there had been anxiety, there was now anticipation.

Where before there had been doubt, there was now calculated risk.

Where before there had been hope, there was now a slight certainty in his step, of himself, of his gifts, of his plans.

The Ghouls fell into step with him, and they all soon joined Nihil, Copia meeting the Papa’s gaze with his own marked one as he bid the elder a good morning, smiling with ease in the face of Nihil’s grumbles.

Imperator’s hand on Copia’s shoulder as she saw them off left a phantom imprint that followed him as he stepped outside of the main doors, into the chilly air of the early hour. 

The Cardinal allowed his eyes to look up towards the cathedral, his faith draped like a cloak around him as he headed off into the unknown. 

The bells rang as Copia departed the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this piece.  
You can also [find me on tumblr.](http://perinferiadastra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
